Cosmic Cosmetic Clues (aka That Lip Print Though)
by irislim
Summary: Gigi Darcy isn't stupid. But if playing along as if she were will nudge those two together faster, then why the heck not? An AU of LBD's Pemberley arc in which Dizzie likes to pretend they are not secretly making out.
1. Prologue

So, okay. Here's the thing.

My name is Gigi Darcy, and I'm definitely _not_ crazy.

Yes, yes, lots of people will tell you that I'm borderline sociopathic (in the sexy, brainy Sherlock Holmes sort of way, of course)...but I'm _not_ crazy. I'm not.

And I'm definitely not seeing things.

When we grabbed lunch yesterday, I confronted Lizzie first. She shook her head, fumbled, and did her "nothing's happening" throwaway line. It was suspicious - but still normal. Then at dinner, I interrogated Will. And guess what? He did the _exact same thing_.

What are the odds?

The two polar opposites, two people who have a lifetime's worth of angst floating around online for the world to see, actually _agreed._ And not intentionally either.

It doesn't add up. I mean, seriously, what _are_ the odds?

Unless it's _not_ odds. It's not a coincidence. It's not random. It's not -

Ugh, sorry, I know I get carried away. I mean, help-me-with-my-math level diverted (Yes, I know that's the lamest excuse I could've invented. Stop convincing me, okay? I get it, folks. Deal?).

But _this_ \- this is something else. I'm not being deluded. Trust me! I'm not!

The clues are just...too many to ignore. Like, _way_ too many.

Still don't believe me?

Really?

I mean, the evidence speaks for itself! Seriously! How could you -

Fine, fine. I'll tell you what happened.

Then maybe _you_ can decide.


	2. Week 1

**Sunday, Week 1**

"Ready to dig in to some Pacific clams and quality seafood?" I stand at Lizzie's door at 5:30 in the afternoon. I greet her, wide smile and all, but she looks - out of it.

"For - dinner?" She fumbles a _really_ long time for just two words. Then she hangs her head and frowns a little. It's a pity, since she's dressed up so nice too.

Why anyone would be dressed up at all when home by herself on a Sunday afternoon - I would never know. Sunday is sweatpants day. Or training day, if you ask my coach.

"Something wrong?" I feel too confused to actually feel bad.

"I thought you guys wanted to bring foo - I mean, nevermind." Her expression is very transparent when she stops herself mid-word. She never does that in the videos. She looks down, around. "I thought we're meeting at 6:30?"

Then why is she dressed up now? And _what_ about 6:30?

"6:30?" I pause a little. "I - was trying to surprise you, Lizzie. Just in case you were lonely, you can join Fitz and me tonight."

"Oh." She's tongue-tied. It's _weird_.

"Got plans?" I offer, getting really bewildered.

"Yes, I - do, actually." She seems to finally get her bearings. She pulls a little straighter, a little taller; her frown hovers just a few inches above mine. It sucks that William got all the tall genes. "I'm sorry, Gigi."

"No problem," I assure her, pretty sure I'm looking super puzzled. "Hope you have fun?"

"Yes, uhm - hope I will." She smiles a little at least while cocking her head by five degrees. "I'll - see you around. Have fun with Fitz."

"Okay."

* * *

 **Monday, Week 1**

"Did you have fun last night?" I ask between sips. Ever since they installed the new espresso machine, I've been here every other hour. That _probably_ explains the hyperactivity. But hey, whatever.

Lizzie jumps - like, literally _jumps_.

"Wha - what?" She puts on that fake incredulity face - the squinting and shoulder shuffling.

"Last night?" I take another sip. The new half-and-half creamer is _divine._ "Your plans and all?"

It takes another second for her to start stirring her coffee again. She gives a little shrug. "It was - nice."

I'm not sure - but that _almost_ looks like a half-smile.

"Someone brought food over?" I grab a seat at the coffee table, trying my best to look and sound casual. I mean, that's what her half-sentence yesterday meant, right?

"Yeah," she mumbles, taking the other seat.

"Was it yummy?"

"Yeah."

"Did you have fun?"

"Yeah."

"Did you - "

"Yeah."

"Lizzie! What's wrong? You're usually _very_ talkative." (Not as much as I am, but still).

"Huh? What? Nothing's wrong." She smiles - first fake, then sincere. "I - had a lot of fun last night."

"With whom?" Cuz, of course, I just have to -

"Nobody," she blurts reflexively. When I raise an eyebrow, she backpedals. "I mean, of course, there was somebody - but, like, you know, it's not something we need to talk about. I mean, yes, maybe we do - but not now - and not _ever,_ not for a while. Cuz what would the fans say, and what would - "

"Fans?" I place - drop, almost - my cup on the glass table. With her hair pulled back, Lizzie's facial contortions are plain as day.

"Fans? Did I say fans?" There it is - that fake smile again.

"Were you with a guy, Lizzie?" I try _really_ hard to sound neutral about it.

She doesn't answer, just hangs her head over her coffee. She stirs it a bit as I wait her out.

"Yeah," she mumbles.

"Did he - stay the night?" I ask slowly.

"No, no - just for a while, not the whole night - no, not yet - not," she stops herself deliberately. "No, he didn't."

So Will's still got a chance - just gotta get this mystery guy out of the way.

"Cool," I pull back a little, my skirt hem rising just a tad. It's my turn to fake-smile. "I'm _so_ glad you had fun."

* * *

 **Tuesday, Week 1**

Folks who say I have no subtlety don't know the half of it. I got plenty.

"So - are you joining us this Saturday?" I smile, knees bumping against the side of Lizzie's desk. "It's going to be _so_ amazing."

"Saturday?" She looks at me as if I've interrupted some important line of thought. "Oh, the - sightseeing - right?"

"Between you and me and Will, I wouldn't necessarily call it sightseeing," I smile harder (it disarms people, I've learned), "but yes, we are bringing you around all our favorite haunts and it's going to be so great."

Lizzie smiles back tentatively, like she's worried.

I have _got_ to get this guy out of her brain as soon as possible. And the best way - is to keep her too busy to see him.

"Come one - it'll be nice, I promise." I switch to my impetuous little sister face. It's always worked on Will. "You'll get to enjoy the best of San Francisco!"

"So it's me and you and - Darcy?" She seems like she's trying _way_ too hard to looked unaffected.

I hold my breath. "Yeah, totally, like a _friendly_ thing, you know? No pressure?"

What? She's gonna say no if I push it.

"Right - friendly."

See? I knew it was a good word choice.

"No one else joining us?" Lizzie asks, face pensive.

"Nope! Will made sure that you get as _much_ privacy as possible. After all, a big crowd can't cater to your every whim and fancy." I make sure I sound happy.

"Oh, no, I don't need you guys to - "

"Isn't Will the _best_?" I smile widely, playing deaf. "He is, like, the best brother ever. He's also the best tour guide. He chooses _exactly_ what our guests always want, and he makes sure everyone enjoys it and - oh, but, he never entertains girls. I mean, like, yes, he can be _friendly_ with them, but he doesn't pay them special attention or anything. He's just really cool, and he's - "

Right, subtlety.

I grin, on the sheepish side. Mom would cry if she heard me talking like a teenager. That was banned since I was twelve.

"I'll see you on Saturday!" I scurry out of her office.

* * *

 **Wednesday, Week 1**

So _maybe_ yesterday was a little too much. I didn't technically say anything I shouldn't, but yeah - too much, I get it.

And that's why I'm gonna be a good girl today! I'm not bugging Lizzie or William or even Fitz, for that matter. Don't let the cool-guy act fool ya. Fitz is one heck of a shipper.

He practically _conspires_.

"Bring them out on a weekend, you know, _friendly_ stuff," Fitz told me last week.

"But I don't want them to _just_ be friends."

"Ah, but that's exactly the point, isn't it?" He shoved up against my side on the restaurant booth, afro tickling my ears, and whispered, "Stubborn people want to do exactly the _opposite_ of what they're told."

So supposing Fitz was right... _not_ pushing them together is the best way to actually do. It doesn't make sense at all. I mean, it's -

Fine, fine, maybe I'll try it for a change. Maybe lonely hearts will find each other or something, you know?

I'll just shut up until the weekend.

* * *

 **Thursday, Week 1**

Or until Thursday. That works too.

Cuz how can I stay away from the topic when _everyone_ is acting so weird?

"Will, Reynolds said - " I stop short three steps into Will's office. He's slouching in his chair, pushed away from the table. And as long as I've lived, I've _never_ seen William Darcy have anything other than perfect posture. "Are you okay?"

He starts a little, like he didn't even see me.

"Gigi." He pulls himself together, upward and forward. His slightly ruffled hair looks very out-of-place on him. "You needed me?"

To go after Lizzie, yes.

"Reynolds needed your signature." I walk over with the file. "We streamline everything, but purchasing is still a red tape monster."

"You're lucky you're family with the CEO then." He smirks a little.

"Not like my brother would _ever_ let me do anything _unprofessional_."

"Right. Come on." He smiles a little, taking the document and flipping its pages to every 'sign here' sticky notes. His eyes scan the paragraphs. Then he pauses, looks up. "Graphic design needs another tripod?"

Right - that.

"Uhm, it's actually Lizzie who needs one." I observe him closely, hawk-eyes fully geared. "Hers broke yesterday and she's been too nice to ask for another one."

Will flinches a little.

I scramble. "It's not like we need to give her one. No, it's not that. I mean, yeah, professionalism, I get it. But with Lizzie's shadowing going so well, maybe we'll have more shadowers in the future? We could always have an extra tripod to lend them."

I don't mention the fact that most shadowers probably don't film video diaries. I smile as hard as I can.

"Okay," Will says and hands me the fully-signed form.

"Okay?" I take the folder, a tad incredulous.

"Okay." He shrugs. "There's no reason I should disapprove those purchases. So here you go."

"Right," I mumble. My eyes narrow at him. Is he hiding something? "No other questions?"

"No."

Huh.

I scan his face, his hair, his shoulders, his sleeves. _Something_ feels off.

"What are you looking for?"

His questions snaps my attention back to his face. I shrug _really_ hard. "I dunno - is there something I should be looking for?"

"No." Then his eyes fly on to his glass table before they flick back to me. It's as much of a clue as I'm going to get.

"What happened here?" I hop over, eyes searching all over his paper-piled desk.

"Nothing." His chin tucks into his neck. He _is_ hiding something.

I glance down the small, exposed edge of his desk.

Ah - there it is.

I could be a forensics major.

I smirk triumphantly at Will. "Someone came in?"

"No."

"Really? Cuz these look _awfully_ close to handprints on your desk." And William Darcy _never_ tolerates that, so they must be new.

"Handprints?" He looked genuinely concerned. He leaves his chair and walks over to join me.

Two small reversed handprints stare right back at us, just the based of the wrist until the edge of the table cuts off halfway towards the fingers. But it was evidence enough.

"Did you have a _girl_ over?" I assume based on size.

Will stays quiet.

I look down at the table again. Based on the handprint orientation, this girl was probably sandwiched between the edge of the table and _someone_. Given the occupants of the room, it could only be Will. Heck, based on the backwards print, maybe he even made out with her.

Wait, what?

Ugh, the thought sickens me. How can he do this when Lizzie's _right here_?

"No, no, just - employees," he mumbles. He's a horrible liar.

"Will, I thought better of you." I can hear the accusation in my own voice, but I really do feel a little heartbroken.

"What?"

I look at him. "How could you do this?"

"I - I didn't think you would be upset. I honestly thought that - "

"A girl?!" I glare indignantly at him.

He looks completely at a loss.

Well, it serves him right.

I march out the room before he can say another word.

* * *

 **Friday, Week 1**

Okay, okay, maybe that was a bit _too_ much of a diva fit. And some people would probably tell me that if two people don't want to be together - then I shouldn't force them to be.

But how can I ignore them when they're practically a physical fusion about to happen?

When we run into her in the elevator, Will makes goo-goo eyes at her like a high schooler. When we have a general meeting, Lizzie's eyes are _plastered_ on Will the entire time. When we have an employee movie night, Lizzie sits between me and Will, and she steals from Will's popcorn like it's perfectly normal.

 _What the heck is going on?!_

I'm determined to figure things out when I march into Lizzie's office.

"Oh, sorry!" She turns away just after I catch her wiping her eyes.

"Lizzie, are you _crying_?" I fly to her side. Shipping aside, she's a real friend.

"No, I'm fine." She smiles, eyes still watery. "It's nothing."

I think for a little bit. "Did that guy hurt you?"

She frowns a little before it seems to dawn on her what I'm asking. "Oh, no, no - not at all."

I pull up a chair beside her. "You can tell me if he does, okay? Will and I won't let it happen."

Of all the things she might do - she actually _laughs._

"I'm not kidding, Lizzie!"

"Of course." She turns to me, all smiles now. "It's just - I'm not crying 'cause someone hurt me."

Okay? I frown a little. "So - happy tears?"

"A little." She shrugs, a little shy now.

Is everyone determined to act absurd this week?

"A - special gift?" I start asking cuz I can't help it.

"No, no - just." Her eyes jump to her computer screen before she looks down, just like Will's did yesterday. "Oh Gigi, no! Wait!"

She scrambles to pull down her laptop screen before I can reach it. The cover clicks shut before I can see anything more than the e-mail inbox format. I look sternly at her. "Are you _sure_ everything's okay?"

"Yes, I am," she assures me, smiling. Her tears are mostly gone now.

I can't help noticing the uneven make-up. I nudge her elbow. "Hey, Will and I are here for you, okay?"

"I know."

She smiles like it's a Princess Leia moment, but her eyes look far away.

"You're missing eyeliner here." I point at her left eye.

"Oh." She thinks a bit, then blushes. "Eyeline - oh, yeah. Was, uhm - in a rush, this morning."

Why?

"Lizzie - "

"I'll see you tomorrow?"

I can tell when I'm not wanted - even if the feeling sucks.

"Sure." I put on a smile and stand to leave. "Tomorrow."

And who knows? Maybe by tomorrow, I'll get a little bit closer to the bottom of this.


	3. Week 2

**Sunday, Week 2**

"Wasn't today the _best_?" I'm exploding with happiness when we get home in the wee hours of the morning. Sure, Will had to be all formal and _shake her hand_ , but that means they got to touch each other. And it also means I now have a collection of adorkable photos where Lizzie and Will seem to waver between standing apart and allowing nature to give in.

Internet, here I come.

"I would refrain from using that word too much, Gigi," Will says between yawns. He drops down on the lazy boy. "Declaring something the best would only prevent you from using that description again on anything else - or undermine your meaning when you do."

Sometimes, he's plain infuriating.

"That's not a bad thing." I play his game, standing closer while my fists find my hips. "It just means that time with Lizzie is so wonderful that it feels like the best thing ever - and it can only be topped by _more_ time with Lizzie."

The edges of his lips fly up before he forces them back down. "You cannot be certain of that."

Oh yeah?

"Oh, I am _so_ sure of it." I sit down on the adjacent recliner. Sectional recliners - perk of the wealthy. "Didn't you see how Lizzie smiled all day? Seeing her happy makes me feel wonderful as a host."

"She did," he says plainly, but his eyes light up.

I prod him on, "Yes, she did, didn't she? Her face practically glows when she's happy. The blue scarf sure looked nice on her too."

"Yes."

He looks slight happy and _very_ uncertain. My mind catalogs the moments we had all day. I watched them like a hawk - until the stalls at Chinatown, of course.

I look at Will's stoic expression. Did something go wrong when I wasn't looking?

"When I left you alone with Lizzie," I begin, "did something hap - "

"Goodnight, Gigi." Will shoots up from his seat. He drops a kiss on my forehead and disappears.

What?

* * *

 **Monday, Week 2**

If Will wasn't going to tell me anything, then maybe Lizzie will. I _swear_ she had a nice time last weekend.

"Have you seen Lizzie?" I ask aloud in general. The presence of her handbag proves she's come to the office, but everything else on her desk looks way too pristine.

"I think she headed that way." Margaret points to the corner.

I frown, since there's nothing in that direction except the copy room.

"Thanks, Maggie." I comply with her directions.

I know Lizzie's a shadower and all, but that doesn't mean they have to treat her like a poor college intern. I mean, photocopying? The poor girl!

I don't exactly think it through when I grasp the knob and try to push the door open - and find it locked.

"Lizzie?" I rap on the door, just below the plain rectangular 'copy room' label. "Lizzie?"

Some indistinct mumbling reverberates against the metal frames. I hear a gasp, a crack, and a thump.

"Lizzie!"

That sounds almost like a guy. Even with my ear pressed against the door's surface, I only make out some rustling sounds.

"Sorry about the tray." Lizzie finally says something, confirming she's _actually_ in there.

But with whom?

I try the door again to no avail. Frustrated, I leave it and run back down the hall to the nearest cluster of cubicles. "Is Lizzie by herself in there?"

Margaret shrugs, Alicia smirks, and John just looks down.

Another possibility occurs to me. I fly back to the copy room entrance, knocking frantically. "Lizzie! Are you stuck?"

More indistinct mumbling and then - nothing.

Zero sounds. It's like no one's breathing in there.

"Lizzie?"

"I'm okay!" She sounds clipped, nervous.

"You need anything?" Yes, I am aware that everyone working within ten yards of me hears me loud and clear. What choice did I have?

"Nope! Everything's fine - fine."

"You sure?"

"Yeap! Positive."

"Okay."

I wait for another minute before I march away.

* * *

 **Tuesday, Week 2**

"Hey, have you guys seen Will?"

At this rate, Pemberley Digital's gonna need a search party service by next month.

Everyone within the nearest four walls shrugs. It's _so_ frustrating.

"Did he say where he went?"

Heads shaking - everywhere.

"Left for food? Water?"

Anything? He's been so quiet at home that I'm practically living with a Tibetan monk - and now he's deserted even his work sanctuary.

"I think he was mumbling something when he walked that way," Archie - the new kid - mentions meekly, half-standing from his desk.

I whip around to face the hallway where everyone heads for coffee break.

"Really?" I couldn't help asking. I mean, Will _never_ takes a break.

"I think he mentioned something about, uhm - napping pods?"

 _What?_

I look Archie straight in the eye. "Did he say that to you?"

"Oh, no, uhm - " He fumbles and presses his glasses up his nose. He looks around for help; no one helps. "He - was, uhm - on the phone."

"Oh."

A napping call - didn't know those existed.

"He went to take a nap?" I ask blankly.

"I think - that - might - be possible, Miss Gigi." Archie's almost comical in his discomfort, fidgeting in his over-starched shirt.

"Cool. Thanks." I decide to be nice.

I scurry down the hall towards the napping pods. I pass a closed pod where four feet are sticking out, two in heels and two in shiny black shoes. I have no idea _that's_ even allowed. But look as I might, I can't find Will.

Oh well.

* * *

 **Wednesday, Week 2**

"Will, Reynolds would like to know if - "

I stop right in front of his desk. And - I swear with every single bit of credibility I have left - I see Will _humming_ as he's typing away.

His hair is slightly ruffled, like it's been finger-combed. His clothes are all in place, but it's his face - oh, his _face_ \- that's going to break out World War III. Because ten feet ahead of me, the world's most inexpressive robot of a man, is smiling like a goofball, chin-in-neck, and _humming_ to the rhythm of his fingers hitting the keyboard.

Like, what the heck?

I walk nearer, the edge of my tablet tucked against my waist. "Will?"

He looks up, obviously surprised. But this time, it doesn't look like it bothers him.

He actually _grins_ _,_ like, in the middle of a work day."Yes, Gigi?"

"Reynolds said, uhm - " I forget every single word I was going to say. Cuz - again, what the heck?

"Did you need my signature again?" He offers kindly, still inexplicably _glowing._

It's like he's pregnant or something.

"I - uhm." I tap my screen back to life, searching for some kind of reminder. My calendar floats up to meet my face: right - that. "I was thinking if you, I mean, us - no, we - if _we_ would like to invite Lizzie this join us this weekend?"

I look at him like it's the most casual thing in the world. My entire 'Reynolds has a question' charade flushes down the toilet.

Will, still grinning like an idiot, replies right away. "Of course, I am sure that's a wonderful idea."

Whoah, did he just admit that he _enjoys_ Lizzie's company?

"Wow, that's - great!" I shrug, smiling. "I should make sure we pack sandwiches for the afternoon. You know how late the theatre starts. I mean, they practically - "

I stop short when the tip of my shoe hits something on the carpet. I look down.

Is that - _lipgloss?_

I step down and gingerly pick up the telltale cylinder.

"Will?"

"I'll - get that." He snatches it from me the moment I pull up straight. "She, uhm, I - I'll return it."

Okay?

"Are you sure? I mean, I can definitely bring it out. I was just leaving." I gesture vaguely towards the door. If Will is anything like our father, he wouldn't be caught dead carrying a woman's personal item. Mom would have my five-year-old self carry her purses at the supermarket because her husband wouldn't. Suitcases - yes; purses - no.

"I'll take care of it," he mumbles. Then he sits back down on his desk, hand subtly slipping the lipgloss into his pocket along the way.

"Alright, if you say so."

* * *

 **Thursday, Week 2**

"Lizzie!" I'm so excited to finally locate her that I practically squeal her name. I run over. "How are you? I haven't seen you in _forever."_

Well, five days - but hey, girl's right to hyperbole.

"I'm - fine." Her eyes look - confused, like her mind isn't really present. The messy hair and the fact that only the upper half of her face has any make-up on make her look like a stilted version of her normal self.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Did I catch you in the middle of something?"

"Oh, no - uhm."

Then, in a sudden gesture, she jams her shoulder against the wall - no, the door - beside her. I look.

"Did you - uhm." I try to state it delicately - cuz, you know, me. "Did you just come out of a _utilities_ closet?"

I'm pretty sure her frown is mirroring mine right now. I rack my brain to confirm that she _did_ just come out of that door. If she did - that might explain why I haven't seen her for days.

I mean, who hangs out in a _closet_?

"Lizzie - " a male voice calls from the other side of the door.

Oh my.

"Shh!" Lizzie hushes him instantly. She plants her shoulder even more firmly against the metal. The next ten seconds show her face contorting from embarrassment to mischief to dreaminess and back to embarrassment.

She's glowing as much as Will is.

Will?

I look at the closet, trying to turn on that laser vision I've always wished I've had.

"Gigi." Lizzie gets my attention back.

I look at her _very_ inquisitively.

"Could you, uhm - not mention this - to anyone?" She sounds almost timid - which is a very strange thing on the outspoken Lizzie Bennet.

"Okay." I'm too baffled to answer otherwise.

* * *

 **Friday, Week 2**

"Mister William Darcy!" I dash to the foyer the moment he's through the door. With the constant disappearances he's been pulling lately, home is the only place I could guarantee catching him.

"Gigi, you're home." He says it like a surprised exclamation.

"It's Friday, remember? Home on the weekends thing."

"Right." He nods. Then he turns for the stairs.

"Will, wait!" I slide sideways to block him.

"I've had a long day, Gigi, I don't think this is a good time to play - "

"Have you been hanging out with Lizzie?" There, I ask it.

He looks at me, and my outstretched arms. He _knows_ I'm not going down without a fight.

He sighs. "I see her at work, of course; so do you. Now, may I go to my room?"

No way.

"No," I protest, hands spread wide and firm, "that's not what I meant."

"Then what did you mean?" His brow is stern, but his lips smile a little.

"Have you been spending time with her - alone?"

Subtlety - see?

"I don't see why that question is in any way relevant to my arrival at my room tonight." He hurls back at me, one brow quirked.

I frown and drop my hands, exasperated. "Will! You know what I'm asking."

"Do I?"

"Yes!"

Sometimes, I want to throttle the guy. But hey, what are brothers for?

"Will - "

"I do see Lizzie at work, as does everyone in Pemberley. When she has questions about the company, she consults me. Is there anything wrong with that?" He brushes me off in that signature way of his.

I humph. "No."

"Good. Now, if you'll excuse me." He steps around me and runs upstairs, briefcase in hand.

I turn around when he reaches the top step. "Hey, Will, you're joining us for the theatre tomorrow, right?"

"Yes," he hollers down the hall.

Good.

I have full intention of ditching tomorrow, of course, but he doesn't need to know that.

* * *

 **A/N:** Thank you so very much to all the supportive readers out there! I am heartily encouraged by your reviews, favorites, and follows. I hope this chapter was fun for you!


	4. Week 3

**Sunday, Week 3**

When I told Will I was going to stay home because I was sick, I was thinking more like - hot blankets and champagne-induced drowsiness. You know, the high life of someone who's had a job well done.

But karma is a spiteful little thing. So here I am, sneezing till my nose bridge collapses and buried in a pile of wet tissue.

"Gigi, how are you feeling?" Will's face appears at my door. His brow is furrowed, worry all over his features. "I apologize for not visiting last night. We arrived quite late, and Mrs. Garcia didn't inform me of your - condition, until this morning."

Sometimes, he makes up for the snobby by being super nice.

I smile, red nose and all. "I'm alright. It's just a cold."

"Ah, but my baby sister deserves perfect health, at all times." He walks over, hands in his pajama pockets, fully paternal as he sits on the edge of my bed. "You know, when you backed out of the theatre last night, I thought for a moment that it was all an act."

Never said he wasn't smart.

I shrug twice, sniffing through it all. "Did you have a good time though?"

He smiles a little, cocks his head, and smiles again. "I would think - Lizzie enjoyed it."

The one good thing with a cold is that elation - or any emotion, for that matter - comes out as an unladylike snort. He'll never tell what I'm thinking.

I smile a little at the thought.

"We - uhm, _I_ hope you get well soon." Will pats my shoulder.

I know I look tired, but maybe at least a little bit of my satisfaction comes through. "I'll be fine. Thanks, Will. Did Lizzie say anything?"

"Yeah, she - " He catches himself. I raise an eyebrow. "I'll make sure to tell her."

"Right."

When I sneeze again, he reaches down for the next box of tissue I've lined up on the floor. And when he does, the lamplight highlights the three auburn eyelashes stuck on his T-shirt-clad shoulder.

Other than the sniffing, I keep quiet for now.

* * *

 **Monday, Week 3**

"Lizzie, are you free?" I slip into her office, symptoms repressed by my latest bout of medication. After a day-and-a-half of confinement, I'll take anything to jump back in action. I skip over to her table.

"Gigi, hi, how are you feeling?" She stands up, looking extra motherly in her brown cardigan.

"Been better." I shrug. "But at you guys had fun, right?"

Unlike the last dozen times, she doesn't dodge me. Instead, she just smiles. "I see your cold doesn't cross out your shipping tendencies."

Ah - honesty, even better.

"Well, how was the show?" I gush openly.

"It was - nice." She lowers her head, smiling. Her fingers play on the edge of her laptop.

Lizzie Bennet - shy and awkward - who'd have thought?

"You - wanna catch up over coffee?" I smile hard, trying to make things better.

"Oh." She looks - hesitant. "I - might have to, uhm, meet someone."

Oh.

"Anyone I know?"

"Uhm - you - you know an awful lot of people around here so, yeah - probably."

"Cool." Even though it's really _not_ cool that she's not telling. I think fast. "Are you - going to freshen up before you go?"

She frowns for a bit before it dawns on her. "Oh yeah - uhm, of course. I - didn't have my make-up with me this morning."

"Really? I though you brought everything - "

"Over from home. I did," she finishes for me. Her cheeks look quite red considering her otherwise pale face. "I thought of borrowing, of course, but you - "

It's her turn to stop. I arch a brow at her like I did with Will yesterday.

"I - have to go." She nods sideways, circumvents me, and hops out the door.

So weird.

* * *

 **Tuesday, Week 3**

Sometimes, the confusion is just not worth it. I don't bother looking for either of them when I wake up early and march the office halls at 7:00 in the morning. It's too early - even for something as natural as shipping my brother with the love of his life.

(Yes, I'm dramatic. Sue me.)

"Miss Gigi!" Archie exclaims when I almost run into him. He balances coffee in one hand, documents in another.

I smirk at his rookie mistake.

"You know that's not a very good idea, right?" I use the pen in my hand to gesture at the contents in both of his. I feel very much like a teacher, thank you.

"Right, uhm - Mr. Darcy wanted it in his office ASAP. I was on my way to the copy room, and I - "

"Right," I cut him off, pre-occupied with the drink. Cuz even when Will drinks coffee, it's not in a peach-colored 'everyone deserves tea' coffee mug. "Does he, uhm - do this often?"

"Ask for coffee?"

"Yes."

"Every morning for the past week," the little guy, freckles and all, replies dutifully.

"I see." I press the tip of my pen against my chin - feel smart, look smart, you know? "In that mug?"

"Every day."

"Ah." I try to think fast. It's not like I see Will outside his office any time before the 11:00 meeting each morning. Having fewer chances to snoop is an unfortunate side-effect of keeping my own place on the weekdays. "Is Will in his office?"

"I - don't know," Archie stutters. He gulps. "Am I in trouble, miss?"

"No, no." I wave the idea away. "It's just - how do you give Will the coffee cup if he's not there?"

"I place it on the table beside the door. I mean - I don't want to disturb, I - "

"Why would you be disturbing?"

"Well, when someone locks the door - it would be rude to interrupt."

Hm.

"Could you - take it over to him right now?" I divert my plans.

"Sure." He sounds relieved before he scurries over.

I watch behind the corner.

Sure enough, Archie knocks softly on the office door and leaves the girly mug on the small table outside before hastening away. What's surprising - is Will's missing tie and flushed complexion when he opens the door, checks around, and brings the coffee in.

Well, you don't say.

* * *

 **Wednesday, Week 3**

Hunches are good. But for anyone to believe me, I'm gonna need solid proof.

Will and Lizzie may both be acting super weird - but if even Fitz doesn't believe me after an hour of nagging him on the phone, then I need more substantial evidence.

"Lizzie!" I accost her before she can leave her office. It takes way too much work to find her these days.

"Gigi, hi." She smiles. She's always smiling recently.

"Are you attending the launch tomorrow? I know events put _extra_ work to make it all nice."

I'm being hyper again - I can tell.

"Yeah, I'll be there." She closes the door behind her, like she's headed somewhere in the middle of the day. "Domino's already a great product. I can't wait to see how marketing's packaged it."

"With silly themes, of course." I laugh it off, fighting the urge to wink. "I mean - these events are usually _super_ fancy, with lighting and centerpieces and string quartets."

"Wow, that fancy, huh?" She looks a little doubtful.

"Well - not for _everyone_ ," I bluff on, shrugging a little. "It's only the marketing peeps who wear actual costumes. The rest of us just - dress up nice."

"Should I buy a dress?"

It's working.

I smile. "Just wear the best one you brought."

"Okay, I will."

"See you tomorrow!"

I dash away before she can ask anything else.

* * *

 **Thursday, Week 3**

Sure, I've devised the plan - but it's up to them to put it in motion. And just to make sure they do, I pace Pemberley's hallways _all_ day. Offices, closets, copy rooms - I leave no stone unturned.

The funny thing?

I still can't find them - not a single trace.

At least, not until the actual launch.

I cross my fingers that she'll at least be a _little_ forgiving when she steps into the function hall - curls, make-up, dress, heels, and all. She looks gorgeous. I'm sure even Will would have the guts to tell her that.

But juxtapositioned against the press's jeans, hoodies, and flats - I'm sure she feels a little ridiculous too. I've tried to dress up a little just to look like I'm part of the ruse, but being required to be in the front row makes my outfit justified. That fact unfortunately doesn't justify hers.

But you know what's worth it?

It's the way Will stands up the very moment she enters. It's the way he crosses the room like a man on a mission. It's the way he strides up to her, eyes fixed on her person. It's the way he reaches out when they're finally close and -

Shakes her hand.

Way to blow it, William Darcy.

"I can't believe him," I whisper to Fitz, who's supportive enough of a friend to always be at these things.

"He's playing his own game, girl." He chuckles. "Just you wait."

Yeah, sure. "But he - "

I'm cut short by Fitz shushing me and pointing Will and Lizzie's direction. I roll my eyes and turn.

Huh.

Having checked to see that no one's looking (and not checking thoroughly enough, obviously), Will takes Lizzie's hand and pulls her behind the nearest booth. Based on the way their faces looked from here, they were probably giggling.

Will - giggling.

It's so wrong it's right.

"And wait," Fitz prompts beside me. It try to be patient.

A lot of minutes later, Lizzie steps back out. Her hair looks a little more casual than it did when she first came in. Her make-up's toned down. She removes her earrings as she walks towards the seated area. I smile awkwardly when she catches my eye.

But she doesn't _look_ angry, thank God.

"There."

I look where Fitz is pointing.

Where Lizzie came out just seconds ago, Will steps into the receiving area. He pulls his tie a little tighter and walks purposefully our way.

I make sure I look overwhelmingly innocent when he sits down beside me. But in my peripheral vision, the sparkly pink lip print on his neck - speaks loud and clear.

* * *

 **Friday, Week 3**

It's almost the weekend. Even in a company as wonderful as Pemberley, Friday spells angsty employees and frantic work. I, for one, am above it all as I glide down the hall - triumphant in my discovery.

Because after that - even Fitz _had_ to believe me after that episode, right? Twitter, just you wait.

"Oomph!" I barge right into another human being.

"Gigi, I'm sorry!" Lizzie quickly apologizes, checking me up and down - for 'injuries,' I suppose. She can be _really_ maternal sometimes.

"It's okay." I smile, righting the headband I happen to be wearing. "You headed somewhere?"

"Uhm, yeah - back to my office." She smiles. Her eyes do that faraway look again.

Wait, I know that expression. She had it on two weeks ago.

My smile turns mischievous. "Have you seen Will?"

"Oh, uhm - I think he went _that_ way."

She doesn't even notice that she's pointing the way I just came from. For two such smart people - they sure are awful liars.

"Cool. Thanks, Lizzie." I let her go.

She smiles and walks away. I don't tell her that her dress is inside-out - seams highlighted by her every move.

Fine, maybe I should have. But I was distracted, okay? Because when I turn away from Lizzie to resume my path's original trajectory - Will is walking forward in front of me. And there's red lace peeking out of his pocket.

I snap a photo.

Sorry, Twitter, I'm keeping this one to myself.


	5. Epilogue

Will officially brought Lizzie home yesterday (It didn't take long for him to fess up after I showed him all my photos). He was smiling from ear to ear.

When I spared him a glare while I hugged an equally-smiling Lizzie, he still smiled. He smiled so much that I thought his face had gotten stuck somehow. Maybe there's a magic ingredient in Mrs. Bennet's casseroles?

Yeah, they visited her last week. The whole 'meet-the-parents' shenanigans. And considering how much Will usually _hates_ foreign company, he looks like he's in pretty good shape.

Lizzie really is the sister I always wanted but never had. Will better put a ring on it soon - very soon. Don't let her be the one who gets away.

There are times, of course, when I feel a little - left out of it.

I knew from the start that they liked each other. I mean, _come on_ , it was _so_ obvious. They were the ones who tried to deny it, to corner me until I set up that kiss-on-the-neck trap. It's fun to ship, yeah, I admit. But they could've been _honest_ about it, you know?

Lizzie moves around our house like she's been here before. Mrs. Gracia greets her like they've met before.

I choose to keep mum about it.

Because hidden make-out sessions aside, I'm just happy that Will's happy. It's the only thing better than being proven right: seeing Will happy, and Lizzie too. I mean, they're so disgustingly happy that Lizzie literally said "We're so gross" at some point in the night. We all agree - but hey, they've earned it.

Now everyone believes me.

Good job, Gigi. I'm proud of myself.

Now excuse me while I go tease them some more. Can't have them taking each other for granted.

Nothing like a chaperone to make them all hot for each other.

I'll regret it when they bang against the wall tonight. But hey, it's worth it.

See? My name is Gigi Darcy, and I'm not crazy at all. Not one bit.


End file.
